


Society.

by kkmuffy



Category: True Grit (2010)
Genre: Age Difference, Eventual Romance, F/M, Laboeuf will literally do anything to be with her, Love Letters, Mattie is trying her best to remain in contact with laboeuf, Mutual Pining, Secret past lives, Typicaly forbidden romance, heavy romance stuff begins when Mattie is of age, stuff gets in the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:53:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkmuffy/pseuds/kkmuffy
Summary: Mattie is forced to enter the elite society, ignore her past, and is not allowed to talk to people lower than her new social rank.





	1. Write to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Good evening.
> 
> I am sure you all know me from my last story which I am discontinuing because I honestly had no direction with that one. I have a lot more planning for this one and it's been on my mind for a while now. I hope you all find it interesting and people are still reading True Grit fan fiction??? Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> PS Chapters will probs be short for my own sanity.

When I returned back to Fort Smith, my Mama was waiting at the Monarch Boarding House. She pinched my ear hard and gave mind to give me a good spanking – but Mister LaBoeuf assured her that I have had quite enough punishment. He was correct. Though killing Tom Chaney had been a great relief, revenge was not as relieving as it seemed before. When I pulled the trigger, I watched his chest explode from the power of Mister LaBoeuf’s rifle. We rode to the bottom on the cliff to see his mangled and broken body. I almost felt sorry for him, but I didn’t. Those images haunted me, and still do to this day.

On the ride back, I was experiencing terrible nightmares that had me jolting upward. It was the Texas Ranger who always rose to console me while the drunken Marshall Cogburn lay snug in his pelt. Most nightmares were reliving the moment I kill Tom Chaney, except I was the man and I saw myself standing with the Sharps Carbine in hand, my eyes thirsting for blood. I, as Tom Chaney, was wishing for my Mama – his Mama and wanting it all to be over. Alcohol had been the death of me, and I had too much pride to admit my wrong doings. I would die regretful and sorry. But, as I saw myself pull the trigger, I would jolt awake, tears streaming down my face and laid in the arms of Mister LaBoeuf.

Mama wanted to leave Fort Smith almost as soon as I arrived. Mama made pleasantries with my lawmen, but it was clear she was not happy they dragged me along for the ride even though I insisted it was my own decision and they tried, but failed, to persuade me otherwise. I told Mama I had business with the Marshall and the Texas Ranger and for her to wait in the Parlor of the Monarch Boarding House, where she has been residing since my departure I had come to learn.

Marshall Cogburn, Mister LaBoeuf and I stood on the Porch while I counted my money. I had exactly fifty dollars. I handed it to Rooster.

“Here is what was promised to you, Marshall.”

He took it out of my hands and stuff it into his coat pocket, a glimmer coming from his lone eye. He grumbled something of a thank you and informed us he was headed to the saloon. He was gone as quickly as I had handed him the money.

I turned to the ranger, “I had not expected on paying you, Mister LaBoeuf. I suspect you will fulfill your agreement with the Marshall.”

Mister LaBoeuf nodded, “He told me I could take the body back to Texas to claim the prize… but it is not I that shot him. I will send you the money.”

“But you have been tracking him for months. I do not need the money; I urge you to take it.” I reasoned. “Besides, you are on the road plenty. You must have a lot more expenses than we do at Ross Farm.”

“Mattie, I will not argue with you. At least split the money with me, I will send you half of it. “ I knew he would not take no for an answer.

“I will take a quarter and I expect you to write to me.” I said.

Mister LaBoeuf’s expression changed. His eyes began to sparkle. “You want to get letters from this Rodeo Clown?”

I felt my cheeks redden under his gaze, nodding coyly. “Yes, I do. As long as you’ll keep your snide remarks to yourself.”

Mister LaBoeuf said in return, “I will try my very best.” He stuck out his hand and I took it, shaking it in agreement.

The moment past quick but he pulled me closer to him and I felt a scratchy kiss the side of my cheek. If my face was red already, I must have looked like a ripe tomato at that point. My fingers rushed to my cheek where his lips had just been. It was very slightly wet. My wide eye expression must have made him amused, as he wore a smug look on his face. But with that done, he winked and said, “Adios.”


	2. Letters from a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for such a long wait! I hope this chapter quenches your thirst in the true grit fanfiction draught lol anyways, I put my other store on the orphanage thing so it is officially discontinued. If anybody would like to pick it up, let me know :) my smut writing is awful lol anyways, hoping the chapter after this won't take months to post.

_March 20th, 1881_

_Dear Miss Ross,_

_Inside this letter is $350, half of the prize granted by the state of Texas. I know you insisted on a quarter, but I could not in good conscious let you get so little when you risked so much. That little adventure we had was perilous, and I mustn’t lie. I feared for you that whole way. I strongly believed that us grown men should take on the task and have you return home. But, that whole time, you were right. You bested both me and the marshal on many things, and you gave me a new confidence that I never thought I could have. I know you thought I was an uptight clown. I was an uptight clown. I wore my britches too tight. I hope one day I can change your opinion of me, and we can continue our friendship.   
How is your family? I am sure things were much different when you arrived home and it must have been a difficult transition. I recall your siblings being quite young, how are they adjusting?_

_I am sorry to cut this letter short, after having you wait so long for it. I am on the move once more. _

_Please write me soon. I would be glad to hear from you now and then._

_With the highest regards,  
Sincerely,  
Sgt. William LaBoeuf_

_. . ._

_March 23rd, 1881_

_Mr. LaBoeuf,_

_I considered sending you the $175, to remain true to our original deal but, I used that amount to buy us all new shoes and put the rest in a jar for Christmastime. Thank you kindly for your generosity.   
I have never thought poorly of you. I want you to know that. Did I find it slightly curious that I awoke one more with your pipe smoke filling the room and greeted by a stranger? Certainly, any woman would be alarmed. On top of that you insulted my appearance, I can tell you as a young woman navigating the world, I found that to be extremely rude. But I did not dislike you. We shared a common goal. I was indifferent to start. But as we were on the trail, I saw through the façade you put on. You carried yourself as a fool, but I knew you were different when we sat by the fire in the cabin. You were spilling the banks of English, if I recall correctly. You are a well-spoken man, humorous in ways I never imagined you to be, and kinder than you give yourself credit for. I have a strong opinion of you, and it is that you are a decent man and a cherished friend. Be kinder to yourself.   
We at Ross Farm are holding up fine. When I returned from our manhunt, they expected me to arrive with Papa in hand. They did not know Papa was already buried in our family plot. Mama had explained to them that Papa was gone, and I do not think they accepted that fact until just recently. Victoria is far too young to understand death’s finality, but Little Frank understands well. He cried for a long time. He’s found solace in the fact that Papa walks with the lord now. Mama is finally recovering. When I came home, she broke down and would not eat for days on end. She is eating well now. My only concern is her growing interest in socializing. She’s always been a quiet woman, and I do not want her to do anything rash. She says these absurd things, how she does not want to be a plain widow for the rest of her life. I understand it, but there is no man for her like Papa.   
Last time we met; you were worse for wear. How is your shoulder? Your head? Your tongue? I hope you are truly well enough for the road and you aren’t pushing yourself. I pray for your safe travels._

_Until the next letter, dearest ranger._  
Sincerely,  
Mattie 

_PS. Please, do not call me Miss Ross. I am not considered a respectable young woman anymore so it hardly matters. Mattie is fine. _


End file.
